


Good Morning

by EmonyDeborah



Category: Incredibles 2 - Fandom, The Incredibles (2004)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Incredibles 2, sleepy Helen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 18:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmonyDeborah/pseuds/EmonyDeborah
Summary: Helen has had an exhausting week.





	Good Morning

Bob whistled to himself as he put the dishes in the dishwasher, glancing at Jack-Jack to make sure he was occupied in his play-pen.

Dash and Violet had just finished breakfast and left for school, Dash very unwillingly.

“We saved the city yesterday, Dad, can’t we stay home?” he’d whined, dragging his feet and moping around instead of getting ready. But Bob had been firm, knowing people would be suspicious if the whole family dropped off the radar the day after the Incredibles had stopped the Everjust from ramming into the city. All it took was one nosy neighbor asking too many questions and they were finished, and so Bob had rustled the kids out of bed and onto the bus. Dash hadn’t done his homework, but Bob had told him to say he’d had a family emergency and that he would do it tonight. He hoped Helen could help, he’d mostly gotten the hang of this new math but another pair of eyes would be helpful.

Helen hadn’t woken up yet, Bob had quietly slipped out earlier. He’d hated leaving her alone, letting her out of his sight, but he was unwilling to disturb her after the night she’d had. Despite being dead-tired, it had taken her an hour of tossing and turning to fall asleep, she’d stiffened and her eyes had snapped open at every small noise throughout the house. And after that her sleep had been fitful, from what he could pick up her nightmares had cast him and their kids in starring roles, all of them always in danger. She’d finally settled at around one o’clock in the morning, wrapped firmly in Bob’s arms, and he was determined that she was going to get all the sleep she needed.

However, she would be mad if he let her sleep in too much, it messed up her sleep schedule. He’d made the mistake of not waking her up before, it took her  _ days  _ to get back into a normal routine. There was a sweet spot, a golden window of opportunity that was the perfect time to wake Helen up, he knew that. Unfortunately, it was always different and difficult to find out.

But Bob was saved the necessity of figuring it out when he heard footsteps padding down the stairs. He made sure the pancakes he’d saved for her were still warm and pushed them to her spot, before opening the fridge to get out the orange juice.

“What time is it?” She still sounded half-asleep, her voice was rough and scratchy. Bob smiled, he’d missed her morning voice.

“It’s eight thirty, not very-” He shut the fridge and turned to the island where Helen was sitting. “-late.” Helen was staring at her fork through drooping eyelids as though she were trying to remember how to use it. “Helen?”

“Hmm?” She put down her fork and grabbed the syrup.

“Is there a reason you’re wearing my shirt?” Helen didn’t answer, she was concentrating heavily on drizzling her syrup and accidentally draping one of the sleeves in it. “Helen.”

“Hm? Oh,” she drawled, the edges of her slight accent creeping into her voice, “I found it.”

“Well, yeah.” Bob handed her a glass of orange juice.

“It smells good,” she said absentmindedly, and stuffed a bite of pancake into her mouth.

“It’s also huge.” He was far taller and broader than her, his shirt looked like a small tent draped over her thin shoulders and swallowing her curves. He wouldn’t have minded, and didn’t, really, except that she hadn’t worn his clothes since before Violet was born, almost fourteen years ago. And it didn’t look like she was wearing any pants, though since his shirt went to her knees it didn’t matter.

He hadn’t seen her look so...uncollected in years, especially in the morning, she’d been the early riser since Violet had been born. But here she was, her hair a frazzled mess and her shoulders slumped, slowly eating pancakes with her eyes closed like she was sleeping. And wearing his shirt, which was somehow almost as cute as it was confusing.

Bob frowned. He’d expected her to be tired, but this was beyond anything he would have imagined. Even if she slept in, when Helen woke up, she was  _ awake,  _ he’d never seen her so sleepy in the morning.

“You feeling ok, honey?” he asked as she missed her mouth with her fork, smearing syrup on her cheek.

“M’fine, m’just a little…” Bob darted forward and pulled her plate away as her head sank onto the counter. “...tired…” Bob stifled a laugh and grabbed some napkins.

“Yeah, I can tell. Here.” He nudged her and handed her the napkins. “You’ve got some syrup on your face.” Helen took the napkins and gave a weak attempt at wiping her face, before sinking back onto the counter, a napkin still stuck to her cheek.

“I think I’ll just stay here, honey…” Her voice trailed off with a sigh, and Bob raised his eyebrows, fighting a smile.

“How about you go back up to bed, sweetie,” he said, quietly taking Helen’s dishes. “I’ll wake you up for lunch.” Helen made a muffled noise that sounded like a protest. She murmured something about Jack-Jack. “I’ll take care of him, honey, I got this.” Helen didn’t move, but her face relaxed a little. Bob waited to see if she was going to get up, but after a moment he chuckled and walked around the island.

“Come on,” he said, maneuvering Helen out of her chair and into his arms. She wriggled a little as he carried her up the stairs and protested weakly as he gently put her back in bed. But then she mumbled incomprehensibly and buried her face in a pillow, and Bob snorted into his fist as he peeled the napkin off her face and threw it away. 

“Goodnight, honey,” she sighed as he tiptoed out the door, her voice muffled. “Love you.” Bob turned in the door and smiled at her sleeping form. She had already nodded off, she looked peaceful and serene wrapped around one of the pillows, snoring softly and practically drowning in his huge shirt.

“I love you, too,” he said, though he was certain she couldn’t hear him. She smiled in her sleep as he quietly shut the door.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This feels sloppy, I don't know why. I hope you liked it, thanks for reading :)


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